Cigarette Smoke // FILLIE

Tell Me Before

m i l l i e

Just as I make my way down the first set of concrete stairs that lead up to the school's entry, I hear the doors being shoved open and the call of my name afterwards.

The voice causes me to flinch internally, the familiarity of it shooting an arrow into my chest. Cautiously, I turn around and find myself mentally fawning over the sight. It's in this split second that I no longer can forget the reason I fell for a cigarette addict.

"Where the hell are you going?" Finn questions, standing merely ten feet from me and shortening that distance with every stride he takes. His dark, black curls falling perfectly over his face; wearing a dark red sweater, dark black jeans, and a pair of black sneaker vans.

Somehow, he's never looked more irresistible.

I brush away my desire for him, reminding myself that he too will leave me.

"I- I can't do it, Finn. Not today." I admit flatly, shrugging innocently as if to excuse my absence.

"What do you mean 'you can't do it', what happened?" He presses, taking another step forward before I step back, letting him know I don't want his sympathy.

"I can't be with you, Finn. Not when I know you're just going to hurt me in the end." I confess, the heaviness in my chest increasing as every word falls from my lips.

The dark-eyed teen shakes his head in confusion and frustration, "What the fuck are you talking about? Who told you that?"

Biting my lip, I quickly wipe away the tear that dared to seep from my eye.

"I'm sorry, Finn. I couldn't stop it before- but now I actually have the choice to stop myself from having to go through such a fucking painful cycle. And y'know what? It sounds like a better deal to quit now before I have to watch it happen all over again. So I'm sorry, Finn, but I can't do it. I won't." I rant, turning to go before I break in front of him.

But, to my demise, his voice calls after me in a hint of desperation, "Please, Brit, talk to me. Don't go without an explanation. You of all people should understand that."

Letting out a shaky breath, I turn on my heels to face him once again.

"I lost my father to cancer, Finn. I lost him because he chose to ruin his own life and the addiction took him from me. I won't let myself go through that again. Not with you."

His eyes stay on me until he lets out a defeated sigh, those orbs of his drifting off into the parking lot.

"Fine, let me drive you home though. Then, if you really want, you won't have to see me again." Finn insists, his calm but compromising tone is enough to convince me to agree. So with that, I accept his offer and follow him to the familiar black low-rider I've been in oh-so many times.

Setting my things down by my feet on the floor mat, I can already tell the tension in the air will make this drive one that will last a lifetime- or at least, it'll feel like it.

As my prediction turned out, I was right. All throughout the ride I kept my eyes trained outside the window and never dared to glance his way in fear I would cave.

So when he came to a halt at the curb of my house, and I muttered a low 'thanks' before reaching for the handle, I felt my stomach drop when I heard the chink of the doors locking in place.

Letting out a sigh, I lean back into my seat and reluctantly turn to face the mysterious teenager I idiotically fell in love with.

"Unlock the door, Finn." I direct, watching as he stares down at his hands somberly with his lips pressed together.

"I can't, Brit, I'm sorry. I know you want to forget me, to stop yourself from possible grief if I get cancer or whatever- but I can't let you go. They say if you love something, let it go. But I can't help but feel like that's utter bullshit, isn't it?" Finn reasons, lifting his face to reveal the shine of tears in his bloodshot eyes, and bob of his Adam's apple swallowing what I can only assume is a boulder of tears.

Blinking away the tears that well in his dark brown eyes, he turns the other cheek as he puts his hand to his lips, almost as if he was in deep thought.

"Why now?" His low voice asks flatly, making it seem more like a statement than a question.

I roll my eyes, tired of having to explain things I don't even know for sure. I don't even know if I want to leave him, I just know that everything is way too much right now.

"What do you mean?" I say through a sigh, trying my best to seem patient despite my urge to unlock the door myself and climb out.

He faces me once more, the tears that shone in his eyes now gone into a light glimmer. Replacing that desperation lies a certainty for answers.

"You've known that cigarettes will be the death of me from the day that we met, and you never cared to ask me to stop. So why now, after all that has happened, are you acting like this is some huge realization? As if you hadn't previously known that it could give me cancer, why now are you suddenly giving a shit?" Finn queries with honest confusion laced through his words.

I shrug hesitantly as I stare down at my hands, my own mind not being able to give him the answer because even I don't know why.

So, without even trying to give him an answer he'd be able to settle with, I simply go on rambling, "I don't know, Finn. I guess when we still had the deal, I was more worried about having you stay for more than two weeks rather than when, or if, you die. But now.. that the deal is off and neither of us are going to leave each other anytime soon, I just started actually thinking long-term."

A moment of silence fills the car after the last syllable rolls off my tongue, a moment where my concerns seem to sink in and settle within the two of us. And as those words settle into the skin, the tension that seemed to crush us in the air rises.

Finn rests his hands against the steering wheel, his vision set on the road despite the parked state of his low-rider.

"I'm sorry, Finn. You know that I love you, I don't think I'll ever stop loving you. I just- I can't watch you die willingly." I confess, a sense of calm filling me despite the somber mood.

The teen remains unfazed, only speaking up when I go to grab my bag from between my feet.

"I already have cancer, Millie."

My eyes slowly redirect themselves back to him as my brows furrow.

"What?"

Swallowing, his mesmerizing brown eyes full of prosperity come to meet mine as he cautiously faces me.

"I was diagnosed with lung cancer four months ago, in December." Finn further explains, every word seems to come out in slow motion and I have to pinch myself to make sure I'm not dreaming. My breath comes out sharp and hitched as a cold sensation fills my lungs.

It's almost like my heart flat-lined when those words processed in my mind, and only started beating again when finally transferred.

He presses his lips together after noticing my subtle action, "You aren't dreaming, Brit, as much as I wish you were."

Suddenly, I feel a sort of sick feeling rising within my throat at a rapid pace. I pull up the lock on the door before shoving it open and grabbing hold of the trash bin we set out for the garbage truck this morning, spilling out my guts as I lean over the wretched smelling container.

Hearing the creak of the car-door hinges being opened and shut, I hear Finn approach from behind me as he draws back my hair while also holding my side to keep me stable. Once I no longer feel like I may puke again, I sit down on the curb just beside the hood of his car.

My body feels completely numb and sick, as if my whole system went into panic at the sound of those words.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Finn sitting down beside me with his face completely calm, whereas I'm sure tears are silently streaming down my cheeks. At least, that's what I assume by the hot streaks I can feel against my cheeks.

Through the constant marathon of questions and thoughts that run through my mind, only one seems to come out first, "Why didn't you tell me before?"